Being Productive
by IchliebeStark
Summary: Bruce takes a much-needed break, struggling with guilt and trying not to ruin things with Selina in the process. But how will she react to the changes in their relationship?
1. Chapter 1

AN: I don't own the characters and am obviously making no profit from this.

* * *

Bruce Wayne was a busy man. Between running Wayne Enterprises by day and cleaning up the streets of Gotham by night, he had little time to spare. Not to mention his involvement with the Justice League, the endless fundraisers he had to attend, and the ever-accelerating drama that was his relationship with Dick. Between all these demands, it was a miracle that Bruce had time to eat and sleep, let alone enjoy himself.

And yet that was exactly what Bruce was trying to do right now. He had spent hours earlier in the day attempting to mentally justify it, reasoning that taking a break from his normal routine would be productive and that there was nothing demanding his immediate attention. But of course, being Bruce, he was still plagued with a sense of guilt. How dare he fritter away his time when there was still so much work to be done in his city? He should be training, or re-evaluating the logs, or… something, anything other than sitting in an opera house with _her_.

For her part, Selina was trying hard not to be too irritated by his obvious discomfort. She had expected her companion to be moody; after all, this was Batman sitting here with Catwoman. It was only natural that he would beat himself up and brood. However, the musicians were just now starting to tune their instruments, which meant that if he kept going at this rate he would implode before the first act even began. It was time to do what she was best at: catching him off guard.

"Let's get out of here," she whispered, standing up and leaving before he even really had time to register that she had spoken.

She waited for him outside, wondering what excuses he would come up with for all the important people wondering why Bruce Wayne was leaving the opera before it even began. Right now, he was probably explaining how his poor date, whose name he couldn't actually remember, had a dreadful case of the sniffles and he needed to see her home right away. Those oh-so-important people would lap it up as just another instance of playboy Wayne being incapable of keeping it in his pants long enough to sit through an opera.

When he finally came out the door he shot her an irritated look, which she duly ignored. She took off walking down the street, knowing that he would catch up easily. It was silent for a good five minutes, until Bruce finally asked, "Care to explain why I wasted money on two tickets for something we're not even going to see?"

He knew it was ridiculous, acting like he cared about the money for the tickets, and he wasn't really surprised when she shot him a deadpan look without actually answering or breaking her stride. She remained silent, walking briskly and purposefully, and Bruce tried to figure out what she was thinking. She was the one who had insisted they go in the first place, so what was the problem?

"I could tell you didn't want to be there," she said out of the blue, making him wonder (as always) how she could read him so well. "You were doing a pretty good job of hiding it, but I could tell. There's no point in sitting there making yourself miserable."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, now trying to gauge just how angry she was. When Selina was angry, especially at him, she had absolutely no problem expressing it through yelling or glaring or even violence. But now her demeanor was calm, her face expressionless, which was somehow much worse. He knew how to deal with anger.

She stopped walking, and he had to say something.

"Look, I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine," she cut him off.

"It's just…"

"I know."

He looked up. He had been trying so hard to read the nuances of her face and body language that he hadn't even noticed that they were outside of her apartment building. It seemed pretty clear that she had every intention of going inside and never speaking to him again, and for some reason that thought made him panic a little. Random details began to cement themselves in his mind (God, she looked good in that dress, she was definitely the most attractive woman he had ever been with) as he tried to think of some way, any way to fix this.

"Well are you coming up or not?"

He stared at her in shock, caught completely off guard, as she said the exact opposite of what she was supposed to be saying. He had been an ass all night, he was so sure he had irrevocably screwed this up, he was so sure she was angry and disappointed, he… didn't understand.

"I thought…" he floundered.

She rolled her eyes, muttered something sarcastic about a great intellect, and grabbed his arm. The surprise of finding himself being practically goose-stepped through the lobby and into the elevator shocked him into coherence.

"I thought you were upset," he said carefully.

She rolled her eyes again. "Of course you did. Always assume the worst, right, Dark Knight? Honestly, I just thought that as long as you were failing so hard at enjoying yourself that I'd be nice and do something to… _distract_ you from your inner turmoil." She paused as the elevator doors opened and a smirk spread slowly across her face. "Wait a minute. Is that why you were staring at me like that? Did you think I was leaving you or something?"

Normally he would have reflexively reminded her that they weren't actually together, but he couldn't make himself do it tonight. He had been worried that he had destroyed any chance they had, and as that thought hit him again he found himself pulling her towards him and kissing her, hard.

They staggered over to her apartment door as she fumbled with the keys, breaking the kiss for a moment so that she could actually get the door open and closed. He realized that this would be their first time as Bruce and Selina, but before he could really contemplate that notion they were at it again, she digging her nails into his biceps, he walking her backwards and cursing her bedroom for being so damn far away. By the time they reached the bed, all their clothes were left in a tattered trail behind them as he kissed down her neck to her breasts and she moaned appreciatively…

Somewhere between round two and round three Bruce decided that his original justification was right; taking the occasional break to enjoy himself was _very_ productive.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Still don't own the characters, nor am I making a profit.

* * *

_Don't open your eyes. Use your other senses to assess your surroundings._

It was one of the first lessons she learned. If you wake up to an unfamiliar situation, your instinct is to bolt upright. This wouldn't be a problem for a normal woman, who probably just forgot about falling asleep in the kitchen, face-first into her pint of ice cream. But Selina Kyle was not normal; over the years she had been captured by a motley crew of ambitious thieves, jealous villainesses, and over-ardent suitors. She had always managed to escape her captors, of course, usually by working free of her bonds while they thought she was still unconscious. For her, taking the time to figure out where she was and what condition she was in could be a matter of life and death.

So, when she came to in the morning with a strange feeling in her gut, she pretended to still be asleep while she evaluated the situation.

_Hands and feet aren't bound, no gag._

_No headache or real pain of any kind._

_Silk sheets. Sun streaming in. Music coming from somewhere : some kind of rap. Like those two college kids who live next door enjoy._

_But that means…_

She finally cracked open an eye. Sure enough, there were her purple curtains. She was in her own room, safely tucked into her own bed. So what the hell was the matter with her? Why did she feel so strange?

That's when she heard the shower turn on.

_Oh hell. _

_No, calm down._

_An intruder wouldn't casually stroll in to take a shower, hmm? So, that means…_

She glanced down, finally registering the fact that she was naked. It hit her all with a flash: going to the opera, leaving early, coming up here to have some wonderful, amazing, mind-blowing sex: with Bruce.

_Bruce Wayne._

_Holy shit. _

_You had sex with BRUCE WAYNE. Not with Batman, not with some dark stranger with a sexy jaw and an even sexier voice, no, you had sex with BRUCE WAYNE. And he's still HERE._

_Oh HELL!_

She fell back in bed as panic set in. She wished it had been an intruder, then she could have kicked the shit out of him and taught him a lesson. But what was she supposed to do with Bruce?

Ok, it's not like they hadn't technically had sex before. There had been more than a few clandestine encounters between Cat and Bat. But now that the masks were off, it suddenly seemed much more intimate.

She was never good with intimacy.

It's not like she hadn't thought this through when she invited him upstairs last night. She knew it was a big deal, but she played casual like always. He had looked so good at the opera, so dark and broody and disapproving, then seeing him get all flustered when they reached her apartment: it was adorable. How was she supposed to resist that?

Besides, it's not like she thought he would actually stay until morning. She figured he'd slip off and go do… playboy billionaire things. Then when they next encountered each other as Batman and Catwoman, they could act like nothing had happened and go back to their masked affair. That's how this was supposed to play out.

As the water shut off, she rolled onto her side, facing away from the door. Maybe she was panicking for nothing. Maybe he would still leave.

The door opened, and Bruce walked in. He looked over at Selina, then quietly sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I know you're awake," he graveled.

She sighed and rolled over. "Of course you do. And you would call me out on it. I'd be pissed if you weren't so sexy."

He quirked his eyebrow.

"Oh come on, Dark Knight, you have to be aware that you're an attractive man. Especially in that towel: ME-OW."

He let the barest hint of a smile show. "As entertaining as I find your diversionary tactics, Selina, could we possibly discuss the matter at hand?"

That was the first time she could ever remember him saying her name. She wanted to hear him say it again. But she realized that asking him to would make her sound like a sappy, besotted fool, and that just wasn't her game.

So she sent him a seductive smile and answered, "All right. The matter at hand: where exactly do we go from here?" She continued on, not letting him get a word in:

"I mean let's face it, there really isn't much of a precedent for this. Crime-fighting vigilantes aren't supposed to get involved with criminals in the first place, but they especially aren't supposed to reveal their secret identities. _Especially_ when the vigilante in question is Batman, Mr. Law-and-Order, Mr. Justice-and Vengeance, Mr. I-am-the-Goddamn-Night. I mean I guess I'm supposed to just stop being Catwoman now, and move into Wayne Manor, and become Mrs. Selina Wayne and start churning out the little bats. Well, honey, that's not me. I've been taking care of myself since I was fifteen and I'm not about to turn my back on everything that that means. Not to mention…"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!" Bruce breathed deeply, and brought his voice down to a normal level. "For the love of God, would you let me say two damn words?"

She sat back, and waved her hand in an imperial "continue" gesture.

"Now you listen to me, Selina Kyle, Catwoman, whatever you want me to call you. You're right, there is no precedent here, but personally I think that's a good thing. We can decide where this goes, we can make our own decisions free of constraints. And as for moving into the manor, sweetheart, that won't happen until the third date at least. And you have to meet Alfred first."

Selina took in his smirk, tried to process what he had said, and finally realized that he had just made a joke. All she could think to reply was, "Does your butler have to approve all your girlfriends?"

"Only the ones that matter."

She breathed. "Sorry I freaked out a little there."

He nodded. "But what do you _think_?"

She looked him over again. The towel, the full dark hair, the expression on his face, all of it so un-Batman. But there were also the scars (a few of which she was personally responsible for) and the eyes, icy blue and ferociously intelligent.

"Well," she replied, moistening her lips, "we know that the Bat and Cat thing works. But personally, I think I kind of like Bruce, and maybe we should see if he and Selina can work, too."

He smiled for real this time.

"Agreed."

"Agreed."

She glanced at the clock. "Don't you have a meeting or a wine-tasting or something to jet off to?"

"There's a board meeting at 10:30. But," he took in her naked form barely hidden under the sheet, "that's not for nearly an hour…"

She grinned, relieved to be drifting into more familiar territory. She sat up, letting her finger trace along his toned muscles.

"Well, then, oh Dark Knight, however shall we pass the time?"

"Do me a favor," he muttered. "Say my name."

She buried her face into his shoulder so he wouldn't see the dazzling smile. "All right then, _Bruce_. Any ideas?"

"A few," he smirked, pushing her back onto the bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Six months. She couldn't believe they'd made it this far.

When the two of them got together, she just knew it was going to implode in their faces. Batman and Catwoman dating? Revealing identities, going to restaurants and shows and shopping? Acting like normal people and trying to have a normal relationship? What was that if not a recipe for disaster?

And she knew Bruce felt the same way; she could tell by the way he threw himself into their relationship. He wanted to get the most out of it that he could while it lasted.

Before, their sex life was limited to midnight rooftop quickies (all the while hoping desperately that Robin or Batgirl didn't show up); now they could have morning sex, afternoon sex, evening sex, and midnight sex. Bruce, being the resourceful man that he was, had been eager to take advantage of these new possibilities; Selina was hardly complaining. They had had sex on nearly every surface in her apartment, and now they were working their way through the manor. She had also noticed on her last visit to Wayne Enterprises that his desk was surprisingly spacious…

But their frequent, incredible sex wasn't the only area where Bruce was optimizing his gain. Selina knew that she was one of the few intelligent women he had seriously dated, and the only one who appreciated the vigilante lifestyle. He seemed remarkably glad to have another confidant, one who was his own age and wouldn't try to rebel or lecture him. Someone who understood all the facets of his life in ways that no one else did.

He took advantage of this boon by telling Selina things he had never told anyone, not even Alfred. He talked about his parents and the friends he had lost over the years, the doubts about his mission and his worth, and the guilt that he grappled with daily. It was astounding, but he really seemed to trust her.

It had been overwhelming for her at first, this man who had been faceless for so many years suddenly taking off his mask and seemingly baring his soul in one fell swoop. But a lot of the things he beat himself up about were just so ridiculous that she felt the need to set him straight. He was the greatest hero there was, in her opinion and in the opinion of most of his foes, and the fact that he seemed to have so little regard for his own merit was just plain stupid.

So despite the fact that emotions weren't really her thing, especially when they came from Batman, she went along with it, even telling him some things about her own past. Just to play the game, and to correct some of his idiocies. That was all.

And despite both their prophecies of doom, both of their certainties that the relationship between their day identities wouldn't last more than a few weeks, Selina found herself unable to sleep one night because she was wondering if getting presents for a six month anniversary was a thing. She'd never had to worry about that before.

Six months. Usually she ended it with guys after the first few weeks. Why the hell was she still with Bruce?

Well, to be completely honest, the trust stuff went both ways. It was nice being with someone who didn't keep one eye on their valuables while they were talking to her. And who didn't assume she was stupid. And who didn't treat her like some helpless damsel or a worthless victim. And who, despite everything she'd done, seemed to respect her.

And, deep down, though it almost made her gag to put the thought into words, she felt…proud. Proud that this brilliant, amazing, heroic man trusted and respected her.

God, he was turning her into such a sap.

But damn it, he made her happy.

And that was what mattered.

She still had no idea what to do about their anniversary, but she was finally able to fall asleep.

* * *

He woke with a start from his latest nightmare. He looked around his bedroom blearily, until his gaze came to rest on Selina, sleeping peacefully beside him.

He was still tired, so logically he should try to go back to sleep, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Catwoman, the sexiest woman alive, in the manor, in his _bed_. How had this happened? How had he gotten so lucky?

He wondered if she even realized what was coming up. Six months, a remarkable achievement. He couldn't believe that they had made it this far, or that they had gotten as close as they had. He had been shocked to find that Selina was insightful and surprisingly supportive. Catwoman was formidable, even ruthless as an opponent. So it was a pleasant surprise to discover that Selina was actually a rational, even thoughtful human being.

He knew that she had felt in over her head, that emotional attachment "wasn't really her thing". He kept waiting for her to cut and run, to disappear from his life. So he tried to make the most of what little time he had with her while preparing himself for the inevitable.

And yet, she stayed. She charmed everyone he introduced her to, from Alfred to Lucius. Even Dick, who had been intensely suspicious at first, had gradually warmed to her. When Bruce invited her to spend the night at the manor the first time he was afraid she would bolt, but instead she made herself right at home. Now she seemed just as comfortable there as she did in her own apartment. He could never have predicted that this would actually last, that she would actually be able to not only put up with him but to understand him and empathize with him.

It was almost insane how grateful he was.

Luckily that discomfiting line of thought was cut short by the faint rustling coming from the other side of the bed. As she awoke her eyes met his, and an adoring smile stretched across her face.

"You have the cutest bed hair," she mumbled, reaching out to run her fingers through it.

He gave her his deadliest scowl and intercepted her hand with lightning speed. She just chuckled and changed the subject.

"What time is it?"

He glanced over at his phone. "Six o'clock."

"Six? SIX? A.M.? I thought that was just a mythical time that parents used to scare their children. Why in God's holy name are we awake? Nope, never mind, don't answer that. I'm going back to sleep." She rolled away from him, and slammed her head back onto the pillow.

"But I have to leave in an hour," he said, trying desperately to sound like he wasn't whining.

"Not my fault you billionaire industrialist vigilante crime-fighters lead such busy lives."

"But who knows how long I'll be gone," he insisted, discreetly reminding her that he was leaving on a Batman mission, not some Wayne Enterprises business trip.

She exhaled slowly. She whispered, "You know I'll miss you." She didn't turn to face him.

He leaned forward, kissing the back of her neck and wrapping his arm around her waist in one smooth motion.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he muttered into her skin, slowly sliding his hand down.

"In one piece?"

"I promise."

"Well in that case," she whispered, her breath hitching as his hand reached its destination, "I'd better give you a proper send off."

* * *

AN: So I've been thinking about making the future chapters of this story a little more racy. Thoughts?


	4. Chapter 4

AN: This chapter is more explicit than the previous ones (it's still not too bad, though). Please let me know what you think, your reviews, favorites, and follows are appreciated.

* * *

"Surely there's no way even you can blame yourself for this."

Bruce didn't respond. He just glared.

How could she be joking at a time like this? She was in the hospital, recovering from near-fatal injuries, and she refused to take the situation seriously. She shouldn't be joking, she should be angry. She should be angry at_ him_.

Because Batman didn't save her.

He got there too late.

He should have known something like this would happen, he should have been prepared. He had protocols to defeat his friends and colleagues in the Justice League if the need ever arose, damn it, yet he hadn't bothered to make contingencies for her old enemies.

It was an Italian kingpin who arranged the hit. According to Selina, the man had been boasting about how he was untouchable and no one would dare steal from him. Within a week half his antique weapons collection went missing, with five delicate claw marks left in its place.

He had been hankering for revenge ever since. It took him a while to track her down, but the longer it took the more obsessed he became. When he finally did find her, he hired the Joker to torture and humiliate her. And, of course, to get it all on camera.

As Bruce remembered the tape, a wave of nausea overtook him. He stood up and strode fitfully to the window, trying to clear his mind. He stood there for about 60 seconds when a pillow hit him on the back of the head.

He turned sharply and found Silena grinning at him.

"You're not seriously still guilt-tripping yourself are you? Come on, I'm bored, please do something more entertaining than brood out the window."

And with that flippant comment, the pressure that had been building up inside of him exploded.

"How can you not be taking this more seriously?" he bellowed. "You were at the mercy of that _**psychopath**_ and he… he…" Bruce couldn't even bring himself to say it. "It's a miracle you won't have any real permanent damage, do you realize that? You're lucky that you escaped with your life. And," his voice dropped to a whisper, "I failed you. I'm supposed to have everything under control. That situation never should have been allowed to develop, and if it did, I should have been there immediately to handle it."

Silena waited, making sure he was finished. When it was clear that his tirade was over, she sighed.

"Bruce," she spoke so softly that he had no choice but to sit back down next to her so that he could hear. "I have some bad news for you. You're human. I don't care if you spend most of your time as Batman, you're human. And that means you're not infallible. You can't predict everything, you can't prepare for everything, and no matter how hard you try you can't keep everyone safe. I know it kills you to have to admit that, but it's true."

He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off. "It's especially true in the case of a master thief who has stolen from some pretty dangerous people over the years. Bruce, I don't expect you to keep me safe all the time, there's no way anyone could. And that's not why I'm with you anyway. If that's what I wanted, I could just hire a bodyguard. I don't need someone to come to my rescue, I think I've proven that I'm pretty good at rescuing myself."

"But that doesn't change the fact that I should have been there for you," he interrupted. "I would do less for any of my partners, for anyone I work with. I saw the tape, Selina, I saw what he did to you," Bruce shuddered. "I should have stopped him. I should have been there."

"You _were_ there, you dolt. You worked out my location faster than anyone else could have. You were there to help me out of the warehouse, to carry me when my legs gave out, and you've spent the better part of a month in this hospital room. That's what's important, Bruce. Not the fact that you didn't foresee something which was impossible to foresee. You want me to admit that this is serious? Fine, I will. What the Joker did was awful, and I'll be recovering from it for a lot longer than it takes for the injuries themselves to heal. But it's not the first time I've had severe wounds, Bruce. It is the first time, however, that anyone's cared enough to stick around and help me recover. And that's the most important thing of all."

He just looked at her. She sighed when she realized she was fighting a losing battle. She was talking to Bruce, and Bruce held himself accountable for every crime and injustice that happened in his vicinity. That's just who he was.

Reasoning that if he was going to be all indignant, he might as well have a reason, Selina continued: "And actually, I'm pretty glad I got to kick Joker's ass myself, before could show up and steal all the fun." Then she leaned forward and kissed him.

* * *

A week later, she was released from the hospital, and both Bruce and Alfred were insistent that she stay at the Manor for the time being. So it was that Bruce returned home from work one day to find Selina taking a shower in the Master bathroom.

He had been giving a lot of thought to what she said in the hospital. She had suffered horrible pain, the kind that would have permanently damaged most people, and yet she broke out of her constraints, kicked the shit out of her captor, and spent most of her subsequent hospital stay trying to convince Batman that he shouldn't feel guilty about a Joker attack.

What a woman.

She got out of the shower, smiling at him as she grabbed a towel. Before she could wrap the towel around herself Bruce stepped up behind her, running his hands along her sides, where until recently there had been dark bruises.

"You're healing well," he stated, observing the rest of her form in the mirror. There were only a few marks left from her ordeal, one of which was a scar on her left shoulder. He ran his left thumb along it, while his other hand settled on her stomach.

She leaned back against him, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

"Bruce, please." She sounded desperate. "I'm all healed now. And it's been too long."

He couldn't agree more. He leaned down, kissing the new scar (as she had done to so many of his own) while his hands found her breasts. She moaned softly and pushed her ass back against him. One of his hands moved down to her hip, instinctively pulling her closer in response to the friction, the other continuing to massage her chest as he bit into her shoulder a little harder than he meant to.

He wanted to be slow and gentle, he wanted to move to the bed and kiss every inch of her, but the truth was they both needed this, and they needed it now. There would be time for the slow love-making later.

So he slid into her without further ado, his grip on her hips a little less forceful and his thrusts a little gentler than they would normally be. She seemed irritated by this and thrust back against him, leaning forward on the counter to get better leverage.

"I'm not fragile," she panted. "Come on, fuck me like you mean it. Show me how much you've missed this."

And as he took in her image in the mirror, her fierce eyes boring into his and her perfect breasts bouncing softly, he decided to do just that.

* * *

Afterwards, he carried her to bed, where she almost immediately fell asleep. He was reminded forcefully of when he carried her out of that warehouse and placed her on a stretcher, scared beyond all reason that she was dead.

But, if the events of the evening had proven anything, it was that she was very much alive. Alive and unchanged.

What a woman.


	5. Chapter 5

"Brucie! Come over here and unwrap your present!"

"Brucie, I've got something special for you!"

"Oh Brucie, how I missed you!"

Bruce shuddered imperceptibly. Most of the galas and parties that he had to attend were excruciating, but none were quite as bad as his birthday party. The gold-diggers and airheads always got especially bold at his birthday parties, hurling themselves at him and screeching in those high-pitched, fake voices. Sure, some of them were attractive enough, but not enough to make up for their obnoxious, giggling idiocy.

It wouldn't be so bad if he could vent his frustration, if he could make his irritation with them clear. But, of course, he had a reputation to uphold, so not only could he not send the airheads away, he had to encourage them. It was grating and exhausting, and Bruce always found himself ending his birthday with a tension headache and a large glass of scotch.

It didn't look like this year would be any different. Already a gaggle of them had managed to corner him, maneuvering him away from the rest of the guests. He tried desperately to find some way to escape, but he was surrounded on all sides. He had resigned himself to his fate when salvation appeared.

"Excuse me, but I believe you're in my spot."

Bruce looked up and found that his salvation came in the form of Selina, who was smirking and obviously enjoying his predicament. Normally he would be irritated with her laughing at him like that, but tonight he was too grateful. And too distracted by what she was wearing. Or rather, the lack of what she was wearing. Her dress was very short. And very tight. Very, very tight.

The sea of gold-diggers magically parted as Selina swayed towards him. She leaned forward, like she was going to whisper something in his ear, when she seemed to realize that the other women were all still standing around, staring at her in shock. She whipped around and snarled, "Did I not make myself clear? Amuse yourselves elsewhere. _Now_."

They scattered in panic.

She turned back to Bruce with a pleased smile. "Where was I? Oh yes." She leaned forward again. "You're welcome." Then she nipped his ear and stepped back with a grin.

Bruce knew he should say something, anything, but his normally reliable brain didn't seem to be responding. He was having a hard enough time trying to keep his from wandering down to… No, look up at her face! Her face!

Selina didn't seem to mind, though; she just laughed and wrapped her arm through his. She looked around at all the guests, and if he wasn't mistaken, she started scoping out some of their jewelry.

That was enough to get his brain firing again.

"I thought you weren't going to be here?" he asked, trying to distract her.

"Well, I wasn't, you know how I dislike these things. But Alfred told me about your…" Her eyes flickered over to a couple of blondes glaring at her.

"Predicament?" he suggested.

"Exactly. He was very insistent that I come and rescue you."

He'd have to remember to give Alfred a vacation.

"So, happy birthday, Bruce," Selina whispered, squeezing his arm before she glided away, trying to hunt down a glass of champagne.

The party continued as normal, with the usual congratulations and well wishes from people he hardly even knew (although the airheads did seem to be wary about approaching him again, what a relief). He barely noticed anyone, however, as he kept his eyes riveted on Silena. That dress, dear God.

Finally he couldn't take it anymore. He waited until there was a distraction, in the form of an especially drunken couple having a very loud and vicious fight. In a blur of motion Bruce grabbed Selina's arm, maneuvered her through the crowd, and yanked her into the coat closet.

"What the hell do you think you're…" her angry tirade was cut off abruptly as he slammed her into the wall and shoved his tongue down her throat. She chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

* * *

A while later, Bruce Wayne come stumbling back into the party, smoothing down his jacket and straightening his tie. A few minutes later, a beautiful brunette walked in, fixing her hair and pulling down her dress.

The younger women huffed in jealousy, the older women clucked in disapproval, and the men shook their heads in admiration. "Typical Bruce," they all said.

None of them realized that this was the best birthday Bruce had had in years.


End file.
